You Said Move On, Where Do I Go?
by georgiehuzzah
Summary: A somewhat reaction fic to the way Blaine dropped his head when Kurt talked about "just friends" in 4x14, and me being generally over-analytic of his behavior in "I Do".


**Trigger warning for hints at depression and nightmares. Enjoy. **

* * *

He wasn't allowed to feel like this.

There shouldn't be a blackness, a feeling of there being no light at the end of whatever tunnel he was currently trudging through. He didn't get to be sad, and especially not when it came to this.

Not now, not ever.

It was his own fault that they were even in this situation; his own immature stupidity had brought them here. He refused to be selfish or ungrateful, but there he was.

Blaine never handled anything well_._

* * *

The wedding was nothing short of interesting. Kurt finally came back, came _home_ (Blaine's heart fluttered when he said that, even though he knew it had nothing to do with him). Blaine felt hope; a feeling he hadn't experienced in many months.

There were nights when he woke up screaming. He'd see himself in a stranger's room, Eli's hands underneath his shirt and silent tears leaking out of the corners of his own weary eyes. His thoughts were so loud that they were almost deafening. _Kurt would've seen. He wouldn't have ignored the fact you were crying. He wouldn't have carried on. He wouldn't have called you a slut. Kurt would've cared._

There were nights now worse than the times he used to ring Kurt at three in the morning. Back then, he knew that there was someone there to talk to. Now, it was just nothingness. Nights like those were truly the hardest. He felt so down, and so low, and he had no one; no one who would listen to him, truly _listen_, and no one to hold onto him and not let go.

He used to wake up, needing to hear Kurt's voice, needing to be reminded that he wasn't alone. Kurt would always pick up and listen. When he was in Lima, he used to drive over and stay the night, just holding Blaine until his breathing was even again.

At night was always when it hit home.

* * *

When Kurt rang and told him he was coming to the wedding, Blaine felt hopeful that perhaps they could talk and figure something out. He knew they couldn't go back to how they used to be, but Blaine didn't want that. They'd both grown and discovered things about themselves, and they were older now, more mature. Wiser.

Turns out Kurt's idea of talking involved lots of tongues and rubbing against one another in the backseat of a car, hands gripping anywhere they could find purchase. Kurt had stopped, asked what it all meant. Blaine knew that Kurt couldn't trust him yet, maybe never again, but he was still on top of him in a damned car park. Blaine didn't protest when he said _just friends_ but he certainly didn't agree. It just felt so nice to feel wanted again.

In the aisles waiting, Kurt was so close, sat on the other side of Tina. They had already re-introduced themselves (mostly physically), but it wasn't _right_.

Everything felt wrong.

Later on, Kurt pulled him into the bedroom and Blaine was helpless under him, doing anything and everything he asked. He was so scaredthat if he said or did the wrong thing, Kurt would vanish in a cloud of black smoke and that would be that.

The morning after, Kurt went into full-on guilt mode and brushed off any attempts Blaine made to talk about it. Blaine met him downstairs and they got frisky in a janitor's closet after Blaine made a half-hearted joke about the change in one Kurt Hummel's attitude to sex. (_"Where did innocent little Kurt go, the one who used to sing and refuse to talk about anything even involving sex? "Closet, Blaine, now. Go. Ugh.") _

The feeling of Kurt needing him in such a physical capacity was nice.

Blaine was stupid to think it could've lasted.

He tried to tell him that he wasn't going to let him dismiss whatever they were doing as nothing, because it wasn't. It meant something bigger than Blaine could put words to. The moment Kurt had pushed Blaine backwards into that car and climbed on top of him, it became something. It wasn't just making out and it wasn't just sex. It hurt Blaine to have to listen to Kurt just completely throw that (and them) away.

Why did Kurt not understand that between them, it could _never _just be sex?

* * *

Kurt rang a few days later and invited him to the movies, _as friends_.

Every single conversation they had was always punctuated with _just friends_; _we're friends_; _as friends_. Blaine couldn't stand it, but for Kurt, he smiled and agreed.

He couldn't lose him again.

Tina saw through him though, and cornered him after Algebra.

"What's going on with you and Kurt?" she asked, staring him down.

"We're just friends," he said, repeating the words that were now practically etched into his brain. "Nothing to worry about."

"As long as you're happier now," she said, then turned on her heel and left.

_No, I'm not. _

* * *

They went to the cinema. It was equal parts fun and horrendous.

The films were fun. The let's-get-each-other-off-in-a-dingy-bathroom plan was not. Blaine was left to wonder how on Earth Kurt coped a few years back when Blaine himself had been the oblivious one.

He realized it was easier for Kurt back then, because he hadn't experienced a year-and-a-half of the most perfect relationship he could ever have hoped to imagine, and it wasn't thrust under his nose every time he saw the other man.

It felt like the universe was getting its revenge, and _fuck_, it was going a good job of breaking him. 

* * *

Blaine woke up screaming.

Kurt was still in Lima, so Blaine could ring him, he could come over and he would be okay.

But somehow, Blaine knew. He knew that he just _couldn't._

This whole _friends _think sucked. Because they weren't, not really. Whenever Blaine tried to talk about what their constant making-out meant, Kurt would change the subject.

Blaine tried over and over to reason with his head, tried to accept that maybe being used (he wasn't being used, it just felt like that sometimes) by Kurt was nothing compared to the pain that Blaine had put him through mere months ago. It didn't help.

Kurt didn't understand just exactly how much their friends-with-benefits arrangement hurt Blaine. He had brought it on himself though. They wouldn't be in this situation if Blaine hadn't have cheated. And Kurt wouldn't be so reluctant to let their little agreement mean something if Blaine hadn't hurt him.

He knew that Kurt didn't want to be hurt again, that he was scared and denying himself the possibility that his feelings were real and _there _because he refused to trust someone again for it to go wrong, but Blaine wasn't coping well with the knowledge that it was _entirely his own fault. _

In a way, it was almost easier when they weren't talking at all. Blaine could feel guilty on his own terms; he could feel lonely and _be _lonely. Currently, he was feeling guilty over hurting Kurt when Kurt was kissing him and he was feeling alone when Kurt was right beside him. It was just wrong.

Right now, Blaine couldn't handle having Kurt but not really having him at all.

For Kurt, his wonderful, precious Kurt, he'd smile and agree to go shopping with him _as friends_, because it was his own fault, and he didn't get to decide the terms of their relationship when he'd screwed it up so badly.

With a deep breath, Blaine turned over and fell asleep.

* * *

"Did you sleep well?" Kurt asked the next afternoon.

"Absolutely perfectly," Blaine answered, squeezing his eyes shut.

He wasn't allowed to feel sad. Certainly not now, not when Kurt was back.

_Breathe. Smile. Repeat. _


End file.
